The Spice of Life
by The Original Frizzi
Summary: They say variety is the spice of life... but, how much variety can one handle in the right conditions? The new mysterious barmaid of the Hanged Man is going to show a couple of familiar faces this, plus... *ahem*, much more. *Rated M to be safe, set in the very far-off future of Dragon Age: Kinship of Blood*


_AN: OHMIGOODNESS, I'm sorry I'm so late and haven't updated! Eeek! This is... wow. Hopefully, I can make it up to you like this!_

_Here I have a little tradition I want to start up: A Sweet N' Spicy Christmas! I have two stories, one sweet (my other one shot I've posted today) and one spicy (hint: you're reading it now). Neither are related to each other, but both are from pre-existing Dragon Age stories I've started, and both were equally fun to write!_

_There are some ladies I'd like to thank... *pointed looks at a particular group of Facebook* You ladies at HoT are made of so much awesomesauceness, it's insane. Truly, it is. xD A couple I'd like to thank more than once are FenZev and Eve Hawke, for polishing this knob (hidden snickers) of an idea to extra shininess, AND for keeping this particular idea a secret._

_Why a secret, you ask? Because a certain author/FFC (Friend From Canada) o' mine went and got herself __*****FAMOUS*****__- and don't you dare let her tell you otherwise, she's just bashful. Ask for her autograph. I already have. ;) Anyways, Ms. Jaden Anderson, this spicy little story that's all wrapped up in a velvet bow is dedicated to you. Take the novel writing world by storm!_

_Read, review, and as always, enjoy!_

* * *

To say Anders was downtrodden would be the largest understatement of the year.

It was late at night, and he had found his new usual spot at the Hanged Man once again with the usual excuse of unwinding after a long day of healing others. But who was he kidding? It certainly wasn't Justice who was even now trying to guilt Anders away from the tavern and back to work on the manifesto. But how could he do any of that, pretend that everything in his life was normal without... her?

Isabela was finally called away by Varric to join him in a game of Wicked Grace with Merrill, Donnic, and Fenris, who most likely deserved three of those four curses he murmured under his breath. The pirate had not quite taken the hint that he would never be interested**,** if the glint in her eyes was any indication. He didn't need this, didn't need any of it. He should just head back to his small hovel in Darktown, immerse himself in his work where it was familiar- no, he couldn't give in, not now. At least, not without another drink. With a wave to the barkeep, he stared holes into his mug, waiting to watch it fill with more spirits. _How many drinks would this make?_

"Find something interesting?" a feminine voice asked him.

Anders looked up from his mug towards the voice, catching more than an eyeful of tattooed chest. He blinked, cleared his throat, and forced his gaze up to the woman's face. While it was on the slender side, in this light her hair looked exactly like Marian's. It was loosely pulled back from her face, some tendrils falling becomingly around her tattooed cheeks. Not the same eyes, though... "No, I'm just... distracted," he finally answered.

She cooed in sympathy, raising a decanter to refill his drink. "A man such as yourself should have no problems," she mused.

Anders chuckled, ready to answer, when it hit him. "Wait, where's Corff?"

"Taking the night off," she answered easily, leaning forward and setting her arms on the bar... and her, well, gifts soon joining. "I would be happy to help you, love."

_Andraste's flaming skirt, first Isabela, now this?_ "I shouldn't. Trust me, you're sweet, and I'm sure you mean well, but I need to get back to-" Anders caught himself, having half-turned in his stool, ready to get up and leave._ Justice, not now! _"Uhm... drinking," he finished, reaching for his mug again and acting as if the move was intentional.

"Fair enough," she mused, before setting one of her hands on his mug. "If you care to indulge me for a moment?" Seeing that he would indeed wait, she reached under the bar and came up with what looked like a pinch of herbs.

As it was sprinkled into his drink, he couldn't help but ask, "What is this?"

"The spice of life," she replied, sending a wink his way. "If it doesn't cure your troubles, then it will help you forget them."

While that was doubtful, Anders still subtly checked his drink. It didn't smell any different... nor did it taste funny either. Most likely some extra expense she'll try to add to the tab later on, he figured, dismissing it from his thoughts.

o0o0o

"Your move, elf," Varric taunted.

Fenris' eyes darted across the table, checking for any cheating moves before taking a card from the pile. In truth, he was finding it hard to focus tonight. Earlier that week, he'd foolishly decided to come along on one of Hawke's jaunts to Sundermount. Apparently, it was needed as she had to give a magicked amulet to the Dalish, and in turn take a blood mage with them. Said blood mage was on Isabela's side, casting her large green eyes about the establishment. This Merrill wanted to learn so many things about the human world; he was half tempted to turn her over to the Templars, have her learn that way.

_And why stop there? _he growled internally. He knew very well that the abomination was here as well, and he would just as quickly turn in that poor excuse of a mage-

"What's gotten into you tonight, Broody?" Varric asked. "Both Isabela and I cheated five times, and you haven't even put a card down yet."

"How do you do that?" Donnic asked, astonished. "I've been watching you the entire time!"

"If you were watching me, you would have been blushing and stammering well before now," Isabela purred, tugging the neckline of her shirt suggestively.

"As amusing as this conversation has gotten," Varric interrupted, "I'd like to know what's made Broody... well, more broody."

"I notice you didn't ask your mage friend over," Fenris growled in reply, discarding casually.

"Who, Blondie?" Varric asked. "I would, but he's too busy pining over his lost love. It'd be no fun to take his coin from him."

With a snort, Fenris added, "I'm surprised that demon of his let him come here at all."

"He doesn't have a demon in him... does he?" Merrill asked, blinking owlishly at him.

"No, he claims not to have stooped to your low yet," he growled again, fingers subtly tightening on his cards. Mages brought nothing but trouble; he'd seen it time and time again.

"Hey, take it easy on Daisy," Varric cautioned, signaling for another round of drinks. "She's the new kid."

Fenris merely glared at the dwarf, but didn't reply. What Varric saw in both Merrill and Anders he'd never know. He didn't think he even wanted to know at this point. It also probably didn't matter, as Hawke wanted to keep the both of them around... _venhedis_.

"Here you are, lovelies," the barmaid announced, carefully handing out the drinks while showing a fair amount of chest. Isabela gave the view an interested smirk, while Fenris forced his eyes back to the cards. He remembered Merrill talking to him about those markings... _What did she call it? Blood writing? Most likely a blood magic ritual...  
_  
Merrill perked up, seeing a familiar sight. "Oh! _Aneth ara_," she greeted jovially.

The barkeep smiled back, replying, "_Aneth ara__, lethallan_."

Smiling grandly, Merrill's head tilted to the side as she studied the woman further. "I apologize for this, but I don't recognize your _vallaslin_. Who does it represent?"

With a saucy wink, setting the last mug down in front of Fenris, she replied, "Fen'Harel."

Merrill paled, her eyes growing even wider as the barmaid returned to her post. Fenris couldn't help but smirk at the action; he didn't get the implication behind the conversation that took place, but if it kept her this silent for the rest of this round, he'd take that as a blessing. A hand absently went to his mug, and- after blowing a stray bit of ground herb from the rim- he took a long drink, letting the alcohol warm him.

o0o0o

"Alright, Broody, upsie-daisie," Varric coached the unknown man supporting Fenris as they climbed the last step.

"'M not drunk..." Fenris murmured, unable to feel his tongue. What kind of toxic swill had he been served? It tasted the same as the last, but he'd never had this happen to him before... He grunted as he was laid out onto his back, blinking slowly at the ceiling.

"Maker's breath, maybe you should stop drinking that Aggregio before coming out for Wicked Grace," Varric mused before turning to the door. "Bring him right in here," he then directed.

"Took you long enough," Isabela groaned, half supporting an equally inebriated Anders. "For a mage, he weighs as much as a ship's anchor."

"Then let's hurry up and move," the new barmaid panted.

Varric had the thought to tell both women to take their time; he may have been fully committed to Bianca, but there was something to be said about the majestic beauty of a "mountain range". They both laid Anders back onto the bed Fenris also occupied, a considerable distance apart with their legs and feet hanging over the side. He would have directed the two drunk friends to his own bed out of the kindness of his heart... but then he'd have to sleep in it later. There was no way he was getting in-between that wake-up call.

"Thanks for the help, sweet thing," Isabela flirted, stretching her arms overhead.

"Anytime, love," the barmaid returned with another saucy wink.

"I can see the next novel: 'Ladies of Lowtown', the awaited sequel to 'Hard in Hightown'. Starring our own Rivaini pirate and the equally lovely Busty Dalish Beauty."

"Keep talking sweet like that to me and I just might pay for half your rent," said Dalish beauty replied, grinning wider. "In any case, I'll be staying up here with these two for now," she added, nodding back to the nearly unconscious duo.

"Well, well... the beauty with the heart of gold! How to spin this..." Varric wondered, nodding a thanks to the new barmaid. He'd always had a good sense about people, and he could tell just by looking at her that she was one to be trusted.

"Who knows?" Isabela chimed in, following Varric out. "Everyone loves a good bit of drama; perhaps a kidnapping? With a few 'rope-tied victim' references to build sympathy..."

Isabela's voice faded as they traveled down the hall and into the din of the tavern. Fenris and Anders could hear the door gently closing, the soft glow from the fireplace casting a light show onto the ceiling. Heather stepped closer to the bed, and after two soft thumps onto the floor, climbed in barefoot to sit in between them. "I couldn't help but overhear the two of you tonight... you have nothing good to say about each other, don't you?"

Though Fenris' mouth felt as if it was stuffed with cotton, he agreed. His ears twitched as he heard a soft male groan next to him; no doubt it was the abomination, expressing his own thoughts... or trying to.

She tsked at the two of them, leaning over and starting to slowly undo Anders' robe. He blinked up at her, wanting to ask what she was doing. Chilled hands met a chest he didn't realize was overheated until he was touched, and despite the numb feeling, he sucked in a breath at the sensation. "There... doesn't that feel better?" she crooned, leaning in closer and whispering into his ear. "You will feel much better soon." And with that, she bit his neck.

It was a small sting, one that she laved away with smooth and practiced motions. It didn't take long until the motion changed to her kissing the spot, and from there to suckling his neck. Anders felt powerless to stop it, even if he did want to. It had been awhile since he had taken a woman to his bed, the last time being the night he finally escaped from Kinloch. She shifted above him, her breasts pressing against him as she framed his hips with her legs.

She did have a good point: he did feel better, as well as a certain something else.

Once that thought came, she gave a last tongued kiss to what he was now sure was a hickey, sat up and shifted off of him. And was it just him, or was her mouth always that red? He couldn't seem to remember anymore... He could only watch as she swung her legs over Fenris' hips, holding herself just above him.

The elf blinked slowly, meeting the light-colored gaze of the Dalish barmaid as she studied... his markings. He couldn't help but growl himself, though it wasn't as loud as he thought it was. "You... may be a challenge," Heather spoke aloud, starting to unbuckle his chest piece. Though it took a tremendous amount of effort, Fenris managed to raise a hand up before it collapsed across his chest, a feeble attempt to stop her. With a soft smile, she gently replaced it to his side, and continued her work. "This doesn't mean you won't enjoy what will come," she reassured him, lifting the armor piece away.

The cool air teased his heated skin; her first touch rose gooseflesh and an inhaled gasp. Taking care to not recklessly touch his lyrium markings, she kissed her way up his chest, nuzzling into his neck, and painting a long lick along the shell of his ear. It twitched hard as he gasped again, drawing a giggle from her. "It has been some time since I have lain with another elf... but you never forget the ear tricks," she taunted, shifting her attention down to his neck.

The bite came then, same as with Anders', but with a pause from her end as his markings lit in a knee-jerk reaction. She hummed in wonder, but didn't comment further, licking the sting away before kissing him rather audibly. The reason behind the action came to him as the bed shifted once more, as Anders drew close to her, setting his hand on her back. Fenris watched as it slid around to her side, tugging insistently as she suckled his neck. Well, he couldn't have that, now could he? Raising his own arm with greater ease, he wrapped it around her other side, preventing the abomination from getting what he wanted.

Heather chuckled into his neck, placing a tender kiss on him as she felt the tug-of-war start. "Play nice, you two," she whisperedinto Fenris' ear, her voice becoming husky with want. She gasped herself, feeling Anders' hand start trailing up her leg under her skirt, having done what she asked while following through with the haze of lust he was sure to be feeling. _Good... everything's working perfectly. _Casting a teasing grin to the mage, she caught Fenris' mouth with her own.

Anders didn't know how she did it, but she was managing to keep Fenris' attention with their kiss while drawing him in with a teasing glint in her eyes. As he drew closer to the two of them, continuing to savor the silken skin of her thigh, he finally was close enough to kiss her at the same time- which he did, claiming one half as Fenris had the other. Seeing the invasive display, Fenris growled, fisting his gauntleted hand in her hair and directing her more onto his mouth. That was fine for someone like Anders, who had perfected his sexual technique on compromises. His hand cupped her neck, his lips meeting her skin and teasing the tender spot where it met her shoulder. She gasped in reaction, and raised her hand to hold him in place, her silent demand that he don't stop.

More feeling returned to Fenris' limbs, but the haze wasn't clearing as well. Considering their present activities, and how Anders kept trying to butt in, this wouldn't do. That mage had her by the neck and the thigh... which left... The elf smiled into their kiss, detangling himself from her hair and cupping her breasts through her rough work shirt, the tips of his gauntlets dragging across the fibers. She sighed in pleasure, but didn't let go of Anders. Fenris could see a dart of pink tongue trail across her skin, and furrowed his brows. Determined, he massaged her more insistently, deepening their kiss. A sharp rip broke the silence, and the now sheepish elf found two halves of her shirt in his hands.

Instead of being upset, she giggled aloud, planting a playful kiss on Fenris' lips. "I hate this fabric, anyway," she reassured him, shifting away from them both to sit straight up. The tattered shirt was freed from her skirt, then from her body, and tossed to the side without a second thought. As her hands raised again to free her hair from its tie, both men rose up onto their elbows. Seeing the two of them glare daggers whenever they locked eyes over her bare skin, she stopped the both of them from progressing. "There is a reason why the Maker gave women two of these," Heather insisted, releasing her loose hair to cup herself. "Neither of you will be fighting over me tonight."

Somewhere in Anders' mind, her argument did make sense. A threesome was something he had imagined in a few of his quick trysts in the darkened halls, though it had hardly included being out gunned by an elf. So long as the warrior didn't start anything, Anders would be content. Fenris' thought process was much the same, though he didn't really have anything to go on. _It's quite the way to lose potential virginity, _he thought to himself. So long as the mage kept himself in line, Fenris wouldn't have a problem. As one, both raised their mouths to her pert nipples, each focusing on their own stretch of skin.

What they soon discovered about their sudden, mysterious lover, however, was a very pleasant surprise: they were trying to impress someone who acted like they could never disappoint her. Everything they tried, whether it was from past experiences or an instinctive move, she reacted as if it was the first time she'd felt it. Whispered encouragements and pleas in both Common and Elvish egged each of them on, letting her squirm as she lost herself in the sensation of having two mouths and four hands on her. The only way she could tell each apart was the occasional rough scratch from the metal claws, which quickly disappeared as his hands dared go lower. She arched her back, pressing her breasts into their mouths as she felt their hands pet and play in her most intimate area.

Fenris was the first to grow more needy, withdrawing his fingers to tackle the ties on his leggings. Anders caught on as well, meeting her mouth to pour his breathy moans into her. Heather squirmed from the absence of his wet suction, relaxing as two different male hands replaced the loss. One cupped her fullness, while the other worked on teasing her nipple. Fenris' other hand finally left the single-minded mission, holding her firmly around the waist as he positioned himself under her. She gasped into Anders' mouth, feeling the smooth, hot tip at her core start sliding in. They both shuddered as Fenris buried himself to the hilt, easy as slicing a hot knife into butter.

Struggling from his own clothing, Anders pressed open-mouthed kisses to her bare back, following as the two elves couldn't help but fall back onto the bed. As he was finally freed, a minor grease spell was cast to prepare himself for her, and her skirt was gathered around her hips. It took a bit of effort from him, as he found his vocal cords decided to take a vacation without telling him, but he eventually convinced both Fenris and Heather to hold still. Her fingers rent the blanket under Fenris, to save from digging them into his skin, as Anders started to push inside her ass. Though the discomfort paled in comparison to her past battle wounds, she was worked up enough that any action from either of them was highly erotic. Heather had to fight herself to relax around Anders and Fenris, to have them both completely in her-

"Hey, my Busty Dalish Beauty," Varric called, opening the door. "Just coming up to... oh..." he trailed off, catching the trio in a rather compromising position. It seemed only Heather noticed his arrival, her head hanging down as her shoulders shook with laughter. Anders chose that moment to finally complete their obvious coupling before Varric decided he'd seen enough. "You know, I'm just going to go..." he said, closing the door behind him as he did. With a light huff and a considering look to the opposite wall, he added, "And write about what I just saw."

After a second's pause, Heather called out to Varric, "You so much as downplay a single detail about my breasts, dwarf, and I'll have to destroy that document!"

Chuckling aloud, Varric sarcastically saluted the closed door, before making a quick stop in his suite for his paper and quills. _Maker's breath, good thing I talked Daisy out of checking on them..._

Once she was sure Varric was gone, Heather started rolling her hips for each of her companions, smiling as they caught the hint and joined her rhythm. Anders kept his firm hold on her waist, harsh exhalations punctuating each thrust. Fenris occupied his hands once again with her full, swaying bust, teasing her ever higher. She threw her head back with a gasp, suddenly pulling free of Fenris' grip and pressing up against Anders, her mouth meeting his neck again after some careful maneuvering. She immediately sank into a deep bite, drawing a sharp gasp from Anders as pleasure connected from there to his hard length. His body grew even hotter, unable to control his pace as his pleasure ran away from him. Rough breaths sawed in and out of him, the two focal points of his pleasure burning brightly, until it grew to be too much, and he spilled his essence inside of her.

Fenris watched all of this happening, Anders' grip turning desperate as his hips smacked into hers, holding her around the waist and across her chest as he finally flew apart. While Fenris had never considered himself a voyeur, and probably wouldn't see any further appeal after tonight, there was something about the sight before him that made him eager. He didn't keep as frantic a pace, but enough to keep her arousal alive.

Pulling away from Anders, she lapped the last bit of his blood from his neck and licked her lips before turning her attention to Fenris, her hips snapping a harder beat against him. His warrior strength and stamina easily met with her new demands, while she rode on the buzz of Anders' orgasm. Her fangs sought out her previous bite, the familiar tingle of lyrium meeting her nose with the action. How it got onto his skin she didn't know, didn't care to ask, but was still careful not to start drinking from it. The wounds were re-punctured easily, warm blood filled her mouth, and a second wave of hot arousal shot to her core. If not for Anders' softening member still inside of her, she would have begged to have Fenris just take her.

His head snapped back, white hair flattening against the bed as he found himself working air into his lungs. Fenris matched her rhythm, drawing it faster as a heavy need pulsed in his veins. He had to go faster, go harder, do something and now! A dizzy sensation soaked his senses, before he was pushed over, stiffening and jerking bodily in her embrace. He could feel her persistent suckling break off as she moaned and cried out in his ear, her own orgasm drenching him. Fenris held her as she calmed over him, feeling Anders' hands join in the efforts, placing kisses along her spine. The only thing the elf could reach was her neck, so he busied himself there.

Heather lapped at Fenris' neck, cleaning up the last remnants of blood before she had to leave them. Loathe as she was to do so, since they both were very fine specimens of mortal- especially that Anders, it was the way of her people now. She was probably going to be in enough trouble for this alone, should she be caught... but, first things first. She kissed Fenris, sliding him out of her and prompting him into getting some rest. He started drifting off before she turned her attention back to Anders.

He'd already pulled out and was waiting patiently for her to join him, Creators bless him. There was a certain something in his eyes, however... something that made her want to bust her way in and find every single secret he had. Heather chuckled, shaking away that fool notion before she leaned in to kiss him in thanks. He allowed her soft lips, lapping at them slowly as his arms enfolded her body once more. She murmured against him, coaching him into slumber and resting in his arms until he did so. Blank with sleep, his features looked infinitely less haunted, more roguish... especially with that stubble. How would that feel when it was rubbed all over her sensitive skin?

The thought entertained her through her search for a new shirt, one that wound up being too tight around the chest... again. With a shrug, she decided to go with it. Shown skin meant tips, and tips meant regular payments, which further meant less of a chance of discovery. She could put up with smelly drunks and knowing smirks from Varric.

Until she walked out the door, and saw a familiar face standing just down the hall. Heather paused, huffing an exasperated breath. "What now?"

The person in question said nothing, just held up her now empty herbal bag.

"I know, I know; I am still finding some way to pay you back-"

"Is this before or after you have your fun with half the men in Kirkwall?" she asked, arching a brow.

"Excuse me, but those 'half the men in Kirkwall' rumors are false. I do have some class, sis," Heather explained, stepping closer with her most innocent smile. "And besides, what just happened back there wasn't having fun..." Pausing dramatically until she was waved to continue, Heather finished with, "I was settling their differences."

A long suffering sigh and murmurings of how she'd rather not ask accompanied Heather's laughter as they rejoined the normal world.

o0o0o

"So, you expect me to believe that a mystical group of sorcerers that we've never heard of before lived in Kirkwall, under the very noses of the Templars, and even went so far as to work in Lowtown?"

Varric sat back in his chair, shaking his head. "Come now, Seeker," he chided. "How can you expect me to finish my story when you keep questioning everything I say?"

Cassandra shook her head. "Going into the Deep Roads for coin, I can understand. Allowing the Witch of the Wilds to assist the Hawkes to Kirkwall, I can also understand." 'Maybe' being the hidden operative word there. "But this seems far-fetched, even for you."

"Well, take a look for yourself," Varric insisted, pulling a slip of paper from the inside of his jacket. "This is the first draft of the next circulation, starring none other than... well, I'll let you look," he insisted, sliding the missive across the table.

Cassandra picked up the vellum from the table, opening it, and blinking rapidly in shock over the crude image. It mainly focused on the Dalish in the center, as she was being pleasured by a pair of mysterious lovers, while casting a rather sultry look to the viewer. Sure enough, the finely scrawled title informed her of little more than how she appeared: a busty, Dalish woman. Turning her gaze back to Varric, she insisted, "And you say this is one of those supposedly feared sorcerers?"

"Well, a first draft," he corrected with a wry grin. "After all, I was under threat of having that destroyed completely should I downplay a single detail about her breasts."


End file.
